Out of the Ordinary
by Akira Lin
Summary: A war between vampires and the vampire hunters. Innocent Muggles dying and being turned into savage beasts that crave blood. Vampires and hunters mercilessly killing each other. And amongst this chaos, hatred transforms into forbidden love. AU Fic
1. Prologue

(**A/N**: This is an AU fic, meaning 'alternate universe'. The setting is completely different, and sometimes the characters may seem out of character. But that's the fun of AU fics, no? The setting is vampires vs. vampire hunters, and throw everything you know about Harry Potter away, because I'm only borrowing the characters and the setting is completely different (No Lord Voldy, for instance). I will add footnotes (aka A/Ns) when something needs explaining, and I have a whole other document with background notes on this story, which I may add as a "Behind the Scenes" chapter later. :) Meanwhile, please enjoy the story!)

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**Prologue**

All she could think of was to get away. To get away from _him_. And to escape before the hunters came. To be caught by either would be a disaster. Her neck was throbbing. She pressed her palm against the wound. Blood seeped through her fingers. Her head was spinning and her vision was blurry. She must have lost a lot of blood. But she must get away.

She could hear distant yells and screams from the manor that she left behind. They must have found _him_, lying on that cold dungeon floor. But he's not dead. They don't die easily. That was why she had to get away. Soon they'll revive him. Soon he'll come for her.

Then quite suddenly, the wound on her neck burned into her skin. She screamed out in pain, and fell to the ground. The pain rapidly spread throughout her entire body, and she soon felt like her whole body was on fire. She needed to drink. To quench this thirst.

She pulled herself up. The thirst was worse than the pain. She started running, and was surprised at her newfound speed. She dashed past blurry houses, trees, and walls. She needed to find water, but could find no well or a pond or any body of water for that matter. She lost track of time. How long had she been running? Just a few seconds? Or maybe hours? She didn't know. What mattered was to find water.

Then suddenly, she stopped. She was in the backyard of someone's mansion. She looked around, and came to the conclusion that she was far away from that cursed manor. Then something caught her eyes. A well.

She ran over to the well, and hurriedly pulled up a bucket full of water. She gulped it down hastily. But the thirst was still there. Crying out in frustration, she lowered the bucket again and withdrew another bucket full of water. She thrust her head back and literally showered herself with the cold water. But still her body was on fire.

"Who are you?" said a voice. She sharply turned, and saw a young boy standing there. His white gold hair tickled his neck, and his pale gray eyes held fear and curiosity.

"Are you a vampire?" he whispered. She didn't say anything, for she did not know the answer to that question. Instead his fair skin caught her eyes. His neck was so exposed.

"Where are your parents?" she asked. Her voice came out cracked and dry. She was so thirsty. The boy didn't answer. She moved closer to the boy. The boy looked up at her and instinctively turned and started to run back towards the house. Without thinking, she ran after him, and in a matter of seconds grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Let me go! Let me go!" he screamed. He pulled out a small silver knife from his robes, and swung it around blindly. It slashed her left cheek. Blood gushed out.

"I need… you…" she grabbed the knife with her bare hand, and felt the blade cutting into her skin. Disregarding the pain and desperate to quench her thirst, she violently robbed the boy of his knife and dropped to her knees.

"I… I'm… sorry…" she whispered, and buried her head in the boy's shoulders. His pale gray eyes widened in shock and pain, and finally he let out an ear-piercing scream. She felt the boy's blood flowing out of his body and gushing down her throat. It felt orgasmic. She gulped down mouthful after mouthful of the blood. Soon the boy stopped struggling, and finally fell limp in her arms.

Coming to her senses, she tore herself away from the boy and held him tightly. She couldn't believe what happened. Worse, she couldn't believed what happened was done by her. The boy was struggling to focus his vision on her face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "If you don't die tonight… my life is yours."

She laid him down on the soft grass. He feebly grabbed onto her old, worn robes. She gently pried his fingers off her clothing, and placed the silver knife she had taken in the boy's hand.

"If you don't die tonight… I'll be waiting. My name is Hermione Granger."

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(**A/N**: I know silver isn't originally a Vampire-weakness-weapon. And it is not intended as a Vampire-weakness-weapon (I'm stating to like this made up word..) The blade that the little boy pulls out is just for self-protection, and it's silver because, well, silver is cool and glints. :D To kill a vampire in my story, you must first weaken them by slashing the hell out of them, make them lose a lot of blood, and then finally set them on fire. Yay.

Also, constructive criticism is very welcome. And I heart heart heart reviews!)


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Hermione jolted from her bed. Her bushy brown hair was flat from her sweat. She rubbed her eyes, and drew the curtains back from her window. The sun was setting.

She got up from her bed, trying to erase the nightmare from her head. She hadn't had that nightmare for years. Why did it have to jump out on her like that? She didn't want to ever think about the night again. She slid out from her robes and went into the washroom.

She turned on the cold water, and lied in the tub. Slowly the water started to fill. The boy's face was stamped across her eyes. The frightened gray eyes, the pale skin that her fangs penetrated. The white-gold hair that was stained with his own blood. Everything was too vivid. She sank into the water.

"Granger!"

Someone was knocking on the door to her room. Startled, she got out of the tub, wrapped herself up with a towel, and answered the door. It was Mr. Filch, the butler of the household.

"One of them Muggles causing trouble down in the cellars," he said. "It's the one with the messy hair."

"Potter?" she asked.

"I don't remember no name of a Muggle. They just naught but food." He threw her a key ring full of heavy iron keys. "Take care of it will ya?"

Hermione nodded, and closed the door. She slipped into deep burgundy robes and stood before the mirror. She stared at herself in the reflection, and ran her finger down the scar on her left cheek. The boy's pale gray eyes flashed into her mind again. Shaking her head, she turned and left her room.

The mansion she lived in was a small one, as her status in the Vampire Community wasn't that high. She was one of the _Turned_, being bitten into vampirism. Those of the highest class were the _Pures_, those born into vampirism. There rarely were any half-blood vampires, as vampires only regarded the Muggles as food. On the bottom of the vampire hierarchy was the _Mindless_, those who are turned but lose their mind, becoming nothing but a savage animal with an eternal craving for blood.

On the other side of the society, there were the Vampire Hunters. Skilled wizards and witches trained for one thing only: to kill vampires. They had their own hierarchy, with pureblood witches and wizards as the top hunters. Half-bloods were mainly servants of the purebloods, and to the Purebloods, Muggles were nothing but a nuisance, for they were weak and were frequently attacked and turned into a Mindless. It wasn't hard for them to track down and kill a Mindless. It just was a menial task no one really wanted to do.

"Stop it! Get off me! Stop!"

Hermione jerked out of her thoughts as she heard yells echoing from the cellars below. She descended into the underground floors. Potter was in his cell, yelling and screaming and kicking. The cook was trying to calm him down so he could extract enough blood.

"Potter," said Hermione softly as she approached his cell. The cook stopped what he was doing and stepped out of the cell. This was the underground "storage" as the Vampires liked to call it, as it was where they kept Muggles, witches, and wizards they had captured for their blood. However, no vampire directly came to attack the "food" for blood. Just enough blood is extracted with magic so that the subject would not die. Most vampires in the household never even saw from whom the blood was coming from.

Hermione took out her wand, and took the jar from the cook. "You may wait outside. I'll handle this." The cook nodded and left the basement gladly. Potter was one of the most troublesome to handle.

"Potter, why do you always struggle?" Hermione said, entering the cell and muttering a curse to bind Potter's hands. He did not answer, but remained still. Hermione sighed, and started the extracting process.

"Because I want to see you," said Potter suddenly. Hermione looked at him. Potter was about seventeen or eighteen at most. Jet black hair with sparkling green eyes. If the boy in her nightmare didn't die… if he made it, he would be about Potter's age.

"You're the only one who calls me by my name," said Potter. "You are the only humane one. The others, they are just like Pures, wanting to be like Pures, when they were once just like me."

Hermione flicked her wand, and the blood stopped flowing into the jar. Potter stared at her. Those big, beautiful green eyes.

"I am one of them, Potter," said Hermione. "I drink your blood. You are my food."

With that, she hastily left the cell while muttering the counter-curse to unbind Potter's hands. She didn't want to hear what Potter had to say. She didn't want to hear, because she was torn between two worlds. If it wasn't for _him_, she would still be in one of those cells, serving her purpose as food. But now, she was one of them, a vampire, drinking out of the people that were her past, the people that she could fully empathize with. She headed back to her room, wishing to finish her shower, and hoping that the cold water would wash away these troubling thoughts.

Upon arrival, Hermione saw a pair of red eyes staring at her from the bed. It was _him_, clad in pitch black robes.

"I was wondering where you had gone off to," he said.

"I was… taking care of some things in the storage," Hermione replied. She felt deep hatred bubbling inside her.

"You should not be burdened with such a task," he whispered, graciously gliding towards her. "You should be treated with utmost respect. You are my personal…" he stroked her neck gently with his long, white fingers. "food."

Hermione frowned slightly at the objectification of herself. Nothing had changed. That night, he caught up with her. He gave her the punishment of a lifetime. She was still his food, his slave. The only thing changed was that she wasn't locked in that dreaded manor, and that she was one of him, a vampire.

"You like it, I know you do," he whispered. "It's much different from that disgusting behavior humans mingle in, trying to achieve the pleasure that only we vampires can experience."

He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. Hermione's mind told her to struggle, but her body wanted to go on. Her body was addicted... to blood, to him, to _his blood_. He gently pushed her hair back, and Hermione could feel his breath against her neck. Then, without warning, his teeth sank into her skin. She felt slight pain accompanied with a tingle of pleasure. Her hands moved up to tangle themselves in his dark hair.

"Please…" Hermione heard herself whisper. "Please let me drink your blood."

He pulled away from her, and seductively wiped her blood from the corner of his lips. His eyes were glowing with pleasure and satisfaction. He pulled Hermione to her bed, and removed his cloak, exposing his neck. Hermione hungrily lunged towards him, but he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back, and towered over her.

"You know the rules Hermione," he breathed. Hermione could feel his hot breath on her ears. Then he lightly bit his wrist, and held it over Hermione's mouth. She eagerly opened her lips, as a single drop of blood dripped into her mouth. She closed her eyes and savored the taste. But it wasn't enough. She wanted more. She _needed_ more.

"Please," Hermione begged. He smiled a smile that didn't reach his cold eyes, and stood up, letting go of Hermione's hair.

"You have a job to do," he said, ignoring Hermione's plea for more. "There is a Mindless that has run off from my manor."

Hermione was barely listening, and her eyes were fixed on his bare neck. He noticed her gaze, and he put his cloak back on, and cocked Hermione's head up with his hand.

"You need to track down and kill this Mindless. Retrieve from it a brooch with two snakes coiling with emerald eyes. It's a male, with light brown hair." He released her and walked towards the window.

"What is the importance of this brooch?" Hermione asked, finally overcoming her drive for his blood and coming back to her normal self. He turned, his red eyes flashing.

"No questions Hermione. Do the job or else I might reconsider your freedom of living here." And with that, he opened her window and disappeared into the darkness.

Hermione glared at her window as if he was still there. She hated him. But she was also addicted to him. She couldn't live without him, without his blood. He was her drug. A drug by the name of Tom Riddle.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Hermione ran her fingers over the blood stained leaf. It was still wet, meaning that the Mindless she was tracking couldn't be far. She closed her eyes and took a long, deep sniff of air. Wisps of wind with a tiny hint of blood were coming from the north. She got up, pocketing the leaf, and ran towards her prey silently. It mustn't be far, at most around 20 kilometers from her. She dashed pass bushes and trees, and finally spotted the Mindless crouching on all fours in a small clearing, looking left and right as if confused.

Hermione was about to enter the clearing, but sensed another presence on the opposite side. She hastily dropped to the ground and hid behind a bush, and watched intently for any signs of movement. Then quite suddenly, there was a flash of silver, a blurry something darting towards the Mindless, and the Mindless lay on the ground, unconscious.

Hermione sighed. It must be a hunter, and a very fast one at that. Normally, she would just run in the opposite direction, putting as much distance between her and the hunter, as vampires were naturally faster than humans. However, today she needed to retrieve the brooch, and hoped that the hunter would leave, satisfied with his kill. She stayed as still as a statue for about ten minutes, and when she couldn't feel the presence of the hunter anymore, she cautiously stepped into the clearing.

"Don't even think about it," said a voice right in her left ear. Hermione froze. She had no idea how it happened, but the hunter that was supposed to be gone was right behind her, with his left arm wrapped around her body trapping both her arms, and his right hand holding a glinting silver knife to her neck. Nervous, Hermione twitched a fraction. Then with a simple swipe, the hunter slashed her neck. Blood poured out.

"I thought I told you not to even think about doing anything," he said, his left arm still tightly wound around her. "The only reason I didn't rip you to shreds is because I want to know why you stayed to examine this Mindless." In a fluid movement, he bound her hands behind her back with a whip with thorns, and pushed her down to the ground. "This is so that you don't get any more ideas."

Hermione grunted. Every time she moved an inch, the thorn cut into her wrists and blood seeped out, and her neck was already numb from her body trying to mask the pain. She could feel her robes slowly being soaked in her own blood. This was the way hunters attacked most vampires. Attack the vampire in any way to make the vampire lose a lot of blood, and when they are weak enough, set them on fire. Hermione gulped. She wasn't this weak. She had countless hours of training to evade most hunters. Then why was she unable to so much as _notice_ this one's movements? It was impossible that a human could be this fast… fast enough to evade a vampire's senses.

"So, don't make me ask this twice, vampire," the hunter said, tightening his grip on the whip and making Hermione clench her teeth from the pain. "Why did you not run? What is your purpose with this Mindless?"

Hermione wasn't listening to the hunter. She was working her brains rapidly in order to figure out a way to get out of this mess, _and_ retrieve the damn brooch. For if she didn't retrieve it, she had consequences to pay for, which she mentally wagered with herself that Tom would treat her worse than how the hunter was treating her now. But then again, Hermione realized, if the hunter killed her, she would no longer have to face this miserable, eternal life. Hermione smiled grimly. It seemed so much easier to just die, than to somehow survive and get the brooch.

"Speak!" the hunter commanded. Hermione let out a small chuckle and stared at the ground. The idea of dying was becoming more and more attractive. The hunter pulled on the whip, causing more pain and blood loss, but Hermione just laughed. Frustrated, the hunter walked around her, kneeled down, grabbed her chin, and forced her face up to meet his eyes. His pale gray eyes.

"You!" the hunter yelled, his grip tightening painfully on her chin. Hermione didn't believe what she was seeing. A pair of gray eyes, creamy white skin, and white-gold hair that gently tickled his neck. Before she could absorb the reality, the hunter let go of the whip and pushed her hair away from her left cheek. He ran his finger down the scar. The scar that came from the wound that he had inflicted, thirteen years ago.

Suddenly, Hermione realized that his wasn't holding his whip anymore, and swiftly freed her hands and jumped back, holding one hand to the wound on her neck. The hunter, dumbfounded, quickly jumped back as well, holding his knife in one hand, and the other withdrawing his wand. Hermione eyed the wand, and mentally reassured herself that she would be able to dodge any curse, and hoped that the wounds wouldn't slow her down. Her glance oscillated from the wand in his hand, and his face. He had grown to be a beautiful man.

"Hermione Granger," he suddenly said, and Hermione tensed up again, coming back to reality.

"Yes," she replied. She really didn't know what else to say.

"Hermione Granger. Hermione. Granger." The hunter's wand hand started to tremble slightly, and Hermione could see hatred flashing in his eyes. Feeling danger, Hermione instinctively hoped that the wind was blowing towards Tom Riddle's manor. That way, he would catch the scent of her blood and hopefully come to her aid. Then she mentally hit herself. What would happen if Tom came? She wouldn't die at least, but she would be punished, and she would ultimately live her damned life as Tom's plaything. Hermione's instincts screamed at her to turn and run as fast as she can, hoping Tom would come to the rescue. But her mind screamed otherwise, and welcomed death. She was so confused.

"Do you have any idea," the hunter said, taking a step closer to Hermione, making her jerk out of the war going in her mind and focus on the wand in his hand. "Do you… have _any_ idea of what I have suffered?" another step closer. "ANY idea… what I have _suffered_ because of you?"

Hermione didn't know what to say. After all, what could she say? It seemed that he didn't die, which she guessed was a good thing. He also obviously hasn't turned, as he had aged. This fact confused her, as he _should_ have turned... but he didn't. So she really didn't understand where his rage was coming from. However, the rage obviously was enough to kill her, and her mind told her to just run at him and hope for Sectumsempra, the curse that all vampires feared.

"You said. You said your life was mine. I remember." The hunter suddenly dashed towards Hermione. Before she knew it, he was right in font of her, eye to eye, and his wand jabbing painfully into her ribs. "I didn't die, Granger. I didn't. I remember. I never forgot. Your name is Hermione Granger. And you owe me your godforsaken life."

Hermione raised her hand, and the hunter jerked in defense, but all she did was stroke his smooth 촏cheek. "You've grown to be a handsome man." She whispered. The hunter frowned, confused, and jabbed his wand harder into her ribs. Hermione grunted, then stood on her tip-toes to reach his right ear. "Kill me," she whispered. "Kill me now. Please, kill me." The hunter pulled away, and looked down at Hermione in confusion. Her eyes were filled with clear tears.

"Her life isn't for yours to take, you silly little boy," said another voice. Hermione knew who's it was, without even having to turn. It was Tom. The hunter didn't say anything, and merely grabbed Hermione and pointed his wand at Tom. "Sectumsempra," he whispered, but Tom was too fast for him. In a flash, Tom had dodged the spell and had his wand pointing at the hunter. A jet of green light shot out from Tom's wand, and Hermione felt the air being disturbed next to her right ear as the spell barely missed her and raced towards the hunter. Hermione no longer felt the hunter binding her anymore, so she turned, expecting to see a dead, limp body of a man. However, all she saw was fallen leaves scattered on the ground. She was surprised at herself being slightly relieved by the fact that the hunter had dodged the curse. With that realization, the tension melted in her body and she fell to the ground, unconscious.

"What's your name boy?" Tom asked, his face showing a hint of amusement. No hunter had dodged his Killing Curse before. Tom looked around trying to catch the hunter's presence, but the hunter was either already gone, or very skilled in hiding. Tom smirked. "You are not human," he said, loudly enough for the hunter to hear, as Tom instinctively knew that the hunter was still nearby. "You should not be dubbed a hunter." Tom waited for a response, but he got none, so he grabbed Hermione by her robes and hoisted her onto his shoulders.

"Draco Malfoy," a voice whispered. Tom felt the presence of the hunter, and rapidly turned towards the direction. However, as soon as the voice was gone, so was the hunter, and Tom felt that this time, he was gone for good. Tom chuckled, and secured Hermione on his shoulders. Then in a blink of an eye, he was gone.

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(**A/N**: Not much to say again, except that constructive criticism is welcome and I heart reviews :D!)


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Hermione opened her eyes, to see the dark canopy of a bed she knew too well for her liking. She slowly raised her hand and felt her neck. The wound was healed. Feeling an all too familiar dread settling in her mind, she got up from the bed. She spotted Tom sitting on the windowsill, the moonlight reflecting off his pale skin. His eyes held a curious color, of red meeting silver. Hermione gazed at him. Despite his cruel and sadistic nature, Tom was beautiful.

"You disappoint me Hermione," said Tom, turning away from the windowsill. Hermione could no longer see his fair face as he had his back to the moonlight. Her hatred for him resurfaced. "I gave you the powers which no Muggle-born like you deserve. I gave you immortality. I gave you the chance to experience the pleasure that no humans can experience. I gave you _my blood_. Yet, you disappoint me." He slowly walked towards her, and Hermione reflexively got off the bed and backed away from him. This motion made Tom's eyes burn with anger. He grabbed Hermione by her wrist, and roughly pulled her to him.

"You are nothing but food," Tom whispered, grabbing Hermione by her hair and pulling her head back. "Yet I give you the highest honor of drinking my blood. And this is how you repay me?" he threw Hermione against the wall with his inhumane strength. Hermione fell to the ground and coughed up blood. It was meaningless to struggle. He was much faster and stronger than she was. Running would result in captivity and more pain, and fighting back would result in more injuries and blood loss. Tom walked over to her and pulled her up by her robes, and furiously forced his lips onto hers. Hermione could feel Tom licking every inch of her lips, savoring her blood.

"Please, stop," Hermione gasped, trying to catch some air. This little gesture of rebellion angered Tom more. He pulled away from her and slapped her aggressively. Hermione fell to the floor.

"You failed to kill that hunter, and have failed to retrieve the brooch," said Tom, walking towards the door. "You are to live in this manor now. Go and grab your things from the other manor. After that you shall not leave this manor without my company." He opened the door. "Don't even think about running away. I can find you. Wherever you are." And with that, he slammed the door shut behind him as he exited the room.

Hermione lay on the floor, crying silent tears. Her little piece of freedom was now gone. Gone because of that stupid brooch, and because of the hunter that just won't kill her. Then Hermione realized that there was no brooch. The Mindless was set free on purpose. Of course. It wasn't easy for anyone, especially a Mindless to escape from Tom's manor. It was all a plan, to punish Hermione for a crime that was set up, and to get a reason to bring her back to this accursed place. This realization made more tears well up inside her. She was Tom's food, his plaything, for as long as she could remember. And she was going to be his food, his plaything, for eternity. The only way she would escape this madness, this imprisonment, was to get killed by a hunter. Hermione wiped her tears. Yes, there was a convenient hunter, just waiting to kill her. That boy with pale gray eyes and white-gold hair. She stood up. She will run. Run like she has never run before. She exited the room.

How will she find the hunter? Or worse yet, how will she make the hunter find her, before Tom caught up with her? Maybe if she set a Mindless free, like Tom did? But where will she find a Mindless? Lost in her thoughts, she exited the manor, and found a carriage waiting for her to take her back to her manor. As she entered the carriage, she made her mind. She would turn someone into a Mindless, free them, and stay close by until a hunter appears.

When she arrived at her manor, she went straight to the storage. There was no point grabbing her things. She had nothing she wanted to keep, nothing that meant anything to her. She looked down the long corridor of cells with humans inside them. She hesitated. Who would she turn? Turning into a Mindless would mean death. Who would she kill?

She walked along the corridor, her mind battling furiously. She couldn't kill a person, she just couldn't. But then again, these people, they may not want to live like this. Hermione stopped, and found herself in front of Potter's cell. He gazed back at her.

"Why are you here?" he asked. "I'm not causing any trouble."

Hermione stared at him. Potter. She pulled out the key ring, unlocked the cell door, and entered Potter's cell. Potter backed away a little, alarmed. Nobody came into his cell before who wasn't about to withdraw his blood for food.

"Potter," Hermione whispered, feeling a sudden thirst inside of her. She realized that after losing much of her blood at the fight with the hunter, and again with Tom, she hadn't replenished her thirst. "I need your blood Potter," she whispered, approaching him. Potter frowned and backed away further, until the wall hit his back and he could go no more. Hermione had never bitten anyone after that horrifying night of biting that little boy with pale grey eyes. She had forgotten how orgasmic it had felt.

"What are you doing?" said Potter, when Hermione grabbed him with tremendous strength. Hermione felt instincts taking over her sane mind, and Potter saw her eyes turn red.

"Stop it!" Potter yelled. But it was too late. Hermione grabbed Potter's head and sank her teeth into his neck, and Potter felt a pain he had never felt before. Hermione sucked violently and felt Potter's blood filling up inside her. It felt so good.

"Granger, stop!" Potter yelled, feebly trying to push her away. His voice filled Hermione's head, and she pulled away abruptly.

"What have I done?" she said weakly, seeing Potter's blood running down his neck. Potter swayed, and grabbed Hermione's robes for support. "We must get out of here!" Hermione said frantically. She grabbed Potter, swung him over her shoulders and ran up the stairs, then out of the front door. The carriage was still there, and the footman stared at her, confused. She ignored him, and swiftly dashed out of the gates, and into the forest.

"What now, what now…" she whimpered. It was a stupid idea, turning someone to lure a hunter to find her. It was very stupid. Yet she did it anyway. She bit her lower lip, as she felt tears welling up inside her. What has she done to Potter? She wished that Potter had enough self-control to not turn into a Mindless.

"Her..mione," Potter said, shifting on her shoulders. "I feel weird… I cannot think straight. Put me down." Hermione closed her eyes as she halted. It was happening.

"'Mione…" Potter whispered. Hermione watched as his eyes started turning yellow. He wasn't going to make it. He was going to turn… turn into a Mindless.

"No… I'm so sorry Potter…" Hermione hugged Potter tightly. Potter grabbed her arms, and Hermione could feel his nails growing and cutting into her skin. She hugged him nonetheless. "Her… mi…one…" Potter growled. Tears dropped from Hermione's eyes and fell onto Potter's cheeks.

"Savage as always, you vampires," said a voice. Hermione turned, and spotted the hunter, the boy of her nightmares, the boy that she had bitten, the boy that now was a man and the one that Hermione had determinedly sought for. "Who did you turn this time Granger? Some helpless, innocent boy like myself?"

Hermione didn't understand this mockery. The hunter obviously hadn't turned. Dismissing this confusion, she hugged Potter even more tightly. She could feel Potter struggling to get out of her grip. He was turned. He needed blood.

"Let go of him," the hunter commanded. Hermione shook her head violently. The hunter sighed, and grabbed Hermione by her robes and pulled her up. Hermione aggressively pushed the hunter's hand away, and held on to Potter, who was scratching her arms. The hunter pulled out his whip, and quickly wrapped it around Potter's hands. Hermione glared at him.

"He'll be in better hands than yours Granger," the hunter said, and in a sweeping motion, he pulled on his whip and Potter broke free from Hermione's arms. Hermione was dumbfounded at the hunter's strength that matched her own, and watched helplessly as he rapidly knocked the now growling Potter unconscious.

Just then, Hermione came to her senses. Tom would know by now that she had run. It would be extremely easy for him to catch her scent, the scent that he had inhaled and lived with for all of her life. She grabbed the hunter's robes.

"You have to kill me!" she begged. The hunter looked at her with an expression of mild interest. "You have to kill me!" Hermione repeated. "Please kill me, and do Potter a favor and kill him to, please, kill us both! Before he… Tom finds us! Please!"

The hunter watched the begging Hermione, and reached into his robes. Welcoming death, Hermione closed her eyes, and waited for her body to burn, her soul to be broken, and her thoughts wiped clean. However, all she felt was a large amount of powder covering her, and a smell of herbs stinging her nose. Before she could open her eyes in confusion, the hunter grabbed her robe and started running. Hermione gasped at the speed. This was beyond the speed that humans could conjure.

Soon, they reached a river, where the hunter threw Hermione into. Speechless, she stumbled on the mossy rocks, and squeezed the water out of the now soaked robes. When she finally pulled herself together, she saw the hunter handing Potter to a heavily clad stranger, no doubt another hunter. The stranger and the hunter exchanged a whispered conversation, and the stranger hurriedly ran off into another direction. Then the hunter peered at Hermione, and swiftly jumped over the river, grabbing Hermione at the same time. He started running again, occasionally dropping a bunch of different colored powders behind him or to his sides. Suddenly, Hermione felt that they were going uphill, and sure enough, moments later they were on top of a cliff overlooking a dark body of water Hermione assumed to be the ocean.

"Where are we?" Hermione asked faintly. The hunter put Hermione down, and bound her hands with his whip. Hermione didn't object to this treatment. After he secured the whip, he walked over to the edge of the cliff and looked down.

"Don't worry about Riddle," the hunter spoke. "We're at least three hundred kilometers from him. I've also… scattered minor distractions so that even if he did track us, it would take him at least a day to come to this cliff. By which we will be long gone."

Hermione watched the hunter's silhouette contrasted from the moonlight that he was facing. His white-gold hair gleamed.

"Why didn't you kill me?" Hermione asked. The hunter did not answer. Instead, he looked up at the full moon. Hermione gazed at him, and when the wind softly blew his hair from his neck, with her good eyes she spotted the tooth marks that she had inflicted, thirteen years ago. The hunter seemed to have sensed her gaze, because he quickly rearranged his hair and pulled the collar of his cloak up further to hide the scar. Then he turned, walked over to Hermione and dropped to his knees to face her.

"My name is Draco Malfoy," he said. "And I can turn you back into a human."

* * *

(**A/N**: Is the story moving too fast? hmm.... Well, I heart reviews and constructive criticism! :D)


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Hermione didn't understand. She stared at Draco, absorbing what he said slowly. Turn her back into a human? How is that possible?

"Your life is mine," he said. "I was going to kill you, but I have better plans. You have no purpose in life. You wanted to die. Obviously you don't enjoy your life with precious Riddle." He stood up, and towered over her. "Do you want to be human again Hermione?"

Hermione gaped. How was that possible? Once you've turned, you've turned. There was no going back. "How?" she finally muttered, but Draco cut her off again. "I can turn you back, but you must do something for me, for us." He pulled out a little vial. "You will be our spy. You are to go back to that manor, and spy on Riddle. Every week, you are to put your memory into this vial of whatever encounter you've had with Riddle. You will then come out of the protective charms surrounding the manor, and hand this vial to me."

Hermione took the vial, slightly awestruck. Draco smirked. "You could be human again Hermione," he said, kneeling in front of her. "I'm giving you a reason to live."

***

Hermione looked up at the gates of the Riddle Manor, and gulped. If the hunter didn't kill her, Tom might for her little escapade. Drawing deep breathes that might be one of her last ones, she entered the manor.

As soon as she stepped in, she felt an aggressive hand close itself around Hermione's neck. Tom was right before her eyes.

"Not only do you run from me, but you spread fake tracks?" Tom screamed. Hermione clawed at Tom's hand, trying to pry his fingers open. "Why have you come back? Couldn't live without my blood, huh? You ungrateful…"

"Please," Hermione choked. "Listen to me first!"

Tom glared at her, and in a swift motion dragged her into the manor and up to his room. He threw Hermione down to the floor, where she hurriedly gulped down mouthfuls of air. Tom leaned against his door, and watched Hermione with glinting red eyes.

"Please," Hermione said. "I did not run from you!"

Hermione slowly got up, walked over to Tom and went on her knees before him. "Please, I did not run. I made the foolish mistake of biting a human in the storage. I… I was so thirsty. When I realized what I was doing… the Mindless, he ran. I ran after him but… a hunter got to him first." Hermione stole a glance at Tom, trying to read his expressions, trying to see if he was buying her story. "The hunter tried to kill me, and I had to run. It was him who spread the fake tracks, so no one could come help me. I'm so sorry Tom. Please, I'm so sorry."

Tom slowly lowered himself to the floor until his eyes were level with Hermione's. She looked back at him with fear in her eyes. What was he going to do? Did he see right through her? Tom raised his hand, and Hermione shut her eyes, not wanting to see what was about to happen. He must have figured out she was lying. He was going to punish her, or kill her. She waited for any pain, any contact, any spell. However, none came. Instead, she felt Tom pulling her up by her robes.

"There will be a Gathering tonight," he whispered, letting go and turning his back on her. "I will not be shamed by your absence. You're room is made ready down the hall. Clean yourself up and wear the dress robes provided."

"Yes, Tom," Hermione said, and waited for him in case he wasn't done with her. When he didn't say anything, Hermione quietly let herself out of the room. She wasn't surprised at all about the fact she was not punished, because there was to be a Gathering. A gathering of the most prestigious vampires. Most of them, like Tom, had their own plaything. And Hermione was presented at every gathering, and... she didn't want to think about it. She cursed this hierarchy. She cursed her blood, her existence. Vampires regarded Muggle-born wizards or witches like herself very rare and as a _gourmet_ dish. This was why Tom had captured her, kept her, and ultimately fed on her.

She had to get out of this life. She wanted to be human again, to stop craving Tom's blood, to be free of him. She wanted Tom to be gone. The way to do that was to help Draco Malfoy. Be a spy, relay memories, and ultimately help them kill her addiction, Tom Riddle. This would be her only way of escape.

***

It had been a week since Draco gave Hermione the task of being a spy, and now he waited patiently on the outskirts of the forest that surrounded the Riddle Manor. He couldn't enter it of course, as it was heavily protected with charms. He couldn't even see the manor, but he knew it was there because of the residue of magic that he could detect. Besides, when he tried to go further, he just found himself reentering the forest and coming out exactly where he started. So Draco Malfoy now sat in silence, well hidden among the bushes. He closed his eyes to rely on his sixth sense to find Hermione as soon as she exited from the protective charms.

He waited for an hour, then two hours, then three, but Hermione did not come. Telling himself that she is probably waiting for an opportunity to get out, he waited patiently. When he had told of this plan to his father, he scoffed, and said that vampires can't be trusted. He wanted to prove his father wrong. He wanted his own plan to succeed, and ultimately exit his father's circle of control. But Hermione did not come.

After a couple of more hours, Draco looked to the east, and saw that the stars were fading one by one as the morning sun was making ready to shine its first rays into the sky. Dawn was near, and Hermione still hadn't shown up. Draco got up, and with a soft crack, disapparated. When he opened his weary eyes, he found himself in front of the Malfoy Manor, the manor that held the most prestigious vampire hunter family. He silently entered, not wishing to meet his father. But nothing ever went the way Draco wanted in this damn house, and there was his father, standing on the top of the grand staircase, looking down at him with suppressed glee.

"So the girl didn't come, I presume?" his father, Lucius Malfoy said softly. Draco repressed his urge to glare at him and nodded. "I told you Draco, that vampires, those vile, savage creatures, are not to be trusted." Lucius turned and walked away. Draco sighed with relief at his father not pressing the matter when Lucius stopped. "It's a good thing you didn't relay information about _us_, as your plan has _obviously_ failed." And with that, Lucius walked around a corner and out of Draco's sight. Draco gritted his teeth. A man he was so alike in appearance and personality, yet a man he hated with all his heart. He would return next week, he told himself. She just didn't have the opportunity to come out today.

Next week came, and went, and then another week passed, but Hermione still hadn't shown up. Lucius mocked him that he was wasting his time, and questioned him slyly on why he was going through with a plan that had failed miserably. However, the more Lucius ridiculed him, the more stubborn Draco became, and he returned every week, determined to prove that he wasn't wrong in making Hermione their spy.

In the fourth week, Draco sat in the exact same bush he had the first time he waited, and closed his eyes. It had been a month, and Hermione had not come. This is the last week, he told himself. Then no more of this. No more of giving his father opportunities to laugh at his failure. Draco frowned as anger filled his heart thinking about Lucius, when suddenly, he sensed a disturbance at the far west side of the protective bubble. Draco hastily got up, and silently dashed towards the disturbance. When he was near, he slowed down, watching cautiously in case the moving thing wasn't Hermione. He crept closer inch by inch, and when the clouds shifted and the moonlight shone, he saw Hermione with her bushy brown hair cropped short right to her neck. Stifling his mild surprise, he crept behind her and bound her hands.

"Why haven't you come the last three weeks?" Draco demanded. Hermione didn't answer, but just dropped her gaze to the ground. "The vial is in my right pocket," she said in a monotone. Draco reached in and retrieved the vial. Not really sure what to say, he turned her around, and to his surprise saw that her eyes were blank and lifeless.

"May I go now, please," Hermione said again, in that same dead tone. Draco unbound her hands, and she walked back into the manor, looking like someone who had no soul. Long after she was gone, Draco stood at the edge of the forest, looking at the spot that she had vanished, with a dreading feeling setting in his mind.

* * *

(**A/N**: Not really happy with how this chapter turned out, but I've been looking at it for days fixing/proofreading/modifying/re-modifying/re-fixing... etc. :P I'm really sick of this chapter now.. I just hope it wasn't a disappointment to readers. :) Constructive criticism is extremely welcome for this chapter, and as always, I heart reviews! Happy New Year 2010!)


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 **

The silvery substance floating lazily around in the pensieve was the only source of light in Draco's dark room. He sat in front of it, watching it intently as if it would give him advice on what to do next. He took out the vial that Hermione had given him from his pocket, and set it next to the pensieve. For some odd reason, he knew deep in his heart that he did not want to see this. Hermione's lifeless eyes flashed into his mind again. He really did not want to see the contents of this memory.

Sighing, he removed the cork from the vial, and slowly poured its contents in to the Pensieve. He watched as Hermione's memories flowed gently into the stone basin and merge with the silvery substance that was neither gas nor liquid. Reluctantly, Draco plunged into the substance, and when he opened his eyes he found himself in a small, dark room lit only by the moonlight that was streaming in through the small, dusty window. He looked around, and spotted Hermione standing behind him, in a pure white silk dress and looking at herself in the mirror. She had a worried look in her tired eyes. Sighing, she left the room, and Draco quickly followed.

They walked slowly down a hall, again lit only by moonlight that poured in through the tall windows on one side of the hall. Draco looked around, trying to absorb every little detail of the manor, and saw the forest that he had hid in just hours ago out the window. Then Hermione stopped in front of a large, double door and Draco walked right through her. Shaking his head, he stood next to Hermione and saw her take a deep breath, and she slowly opened the doors.

"Ah, Hermione," said Tom. Draco was slightly surprised as he entered. There were at least a hundred vampires in this room, the male wearing velvet robes and the female wearing burgundy. The room itself was extremely big with a ceiling that seemed to extend up to the sky, and with windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. The windows had deep, velvet drapes which were drawn to let the moonlight in, and the walls were papered black. Draco quickly surveyed the room with his eyes, and found no source of fire anywhere. 'Smart,' he thought. 'So they keep _any_ threat to their life away from themselves.'

Tom was sitting in a high chair at the very end of the room, and in front of him was a stone table engraved with ancient runes. There were two shackles that were connected to the floor by a thick chain on either side of the stone table. Hermione slowly walked towards Tom, and the vampires gave way. Tom smiled slyly, and stood up. "Behold, my precious treasure," he said unto the crowd. Draco saw that Hermione was slightly trembling.

"Let the ceremony begin," Tom announced, and gestured Hermione to lie on the stone table. The other vampires all took a seat at three long tables that stretched across almost the entire length of the room. There was another table, closer to where Tom was sitting, and vampires wearing pure red robes were sitting in this table. Draco knew right away that these were the Pures, those born into vampirism. He observed that Tom was also supporting a set of red robes. Then, the others sitting on the long tables must be those of the Turned, the ones bitten into vampirism. Draco noted this valuable information. Pures in red robes, the Turned in velvet and burgundy. Then Draco turned and spotted Hermione standing in front of the stone table, and he had a gut feeling that he wasn't going to like what he was about to see. He wasn't wrong.

Hermione made to lie down but Tom grabbed her by her hair. "Dress off, Hermione," he whispered. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. Draco felt like something big just fell into his stomach. _Dress off?_

"Why?" she whispered back. The crowd was getting restless. "Because Hermione, this is your punishment," Tom said, glaring at her. "Now take the dress off and get on the table before you shame me further with your foolish questions."

Hermione dropped her head in defeat, and slowly removed the straps of her dress, and finally let the dress fall to the ground. Draco wanted to turn his head, to not watch Hermione being naked, but he couldn't turn his head away. Her creamy white skin was filled with both small and big scars, no doubt inflicted by the sadist standing behind her commanding her to be naked in front of a hundred people. She stepped out of the small white puddle made from the dress and laid on the cold stone table. Two servants came over and shackled her hands. She was tightly bound.

"This ceremony is our tradition," said Tom. "It is the reminder that we are superior and that we hold the power. Let this day remember, as all days, that we are still on top of the hierarchy, and that we will ultimately triumph in the war."

Tom lowered himself and pushed Hermione's hair away from her neck. She closed her eyes and Draco saw that clear tears were escaping her eyes. She turned her head away from the crowd and Draco found himself wanting nothing more than to release her from this table and blast everything apart. This was inhumane.

"This is your punishment," Tom whispered. Draco, although reluctant to go near a naked Hermione, leaned in to listen. "You think I'd buy your lie? If you are going to lie, at least wrap up your story properly. You never mentioned _how_ you got back Hermione. Did the hunter that spread the fake tracks to isolate you then just let you go freely?" And with that, Tom sank his fangs into her neck, and Draco gasped. Sure, he was once on the victim side, being violently penetrated by Hermione's fangs thirteen years ago. But he never saw a vampire feed on another before. Draco expected Hermione to cringle in pain, just as he did back then, but to his surprise, he saw that Hermione had a blissful look on her face.

"Please…" Hermione whispered, her hands struggling to be free of the shackles to grab Tom. The clanging sounds of the metal from Hermione's shackles rang throughout the room. "Please give me your blood. I need your blood. Please Tom…"

Tom stood up, and wiped Hermione's blood from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, then licked the thumb seductively. The vampires started applauding. "No Hermione," he said. "Your punishment is that you won't get my blood. In fact, you won't get any blood." Tom stepped down and the servants came forward to free Hermione. "NO," Tom commanded. "She will be displayed for the rest of the night." The servants looked mildly surprised, but nodded and slid back into the background.

The feast that followed was extremely different from what humans had. There were only glasses and bottles, of what Draco assumed to be filled with blood. He stood next to the naked Hermione, and saw that vampires glanced at her, with eagerness flashing in their eyes. He could see that they wanted to taste her, to scar her body with their own claws, and to puncture her with their own teeth. Draco instinctively stood in front of her, but he knew it was no use. This was just a memory, and himself a ghost that nobody saw. Draco turned, and saw that Hermione was emptying bucket loads of silent tears. He automatically understood that she was never naked in front of anybody before.

Eager to be far away from Hermione and escape the awkwardness no one else in this room felt but him, Draco moved towards Tom. He was playing with a wine glass made of pure gold, no doubt filled with Hermione's blood.

"They have new methods, those filth," Tom said. Draco leaned in further. "They have learned the art of herbs. They are now spreading fake tracks and making it harder for us to retrieve our brothers." Draco understood that Tom was talking about him. "We must develop something to counter this. Perhaps your experiment is ready Mr. Snape?" Tom looked at a man with greasy black hair. Draco gasped. Snape was _his_ researcher, the one that worked in the Malfoy's laboratory, the one that, at this very moment, was in the basement of this Malfoy Manor. That Snape was sitting right here, in the most inner circle of vampires, sipping _blood_. Snape, a vampire? Draco bit back the urge to get out of the memory, go and grab Snape by his robes and shake the truth out of him. Snape opened his mouth to reply. Draco leaned in determinedly, to find more proof that he was a vampire, a traitor, and a threat.

Suddenly, the whole scene blacked out. Draco cried out in frustration, and was about to leave the memory when colors reappeared before his eyes, and he saw that he was in a dark cell. The walls lined with weapons and equipment Draco could only assume to be used in torture. The whole room was illuminated by tiny rays of moonlight struggling to seep through the one tiny window located near the ceiling. Hermione was balled up at the corner of this room, away from the light, and again with nothing on but her underwear. Draco felt the urgency to confront Snape leave him as a strong desire to take off his robe and cover her entered his mind.

"What have you told the hunter?" screamed a voice. Draco turned and saw Tom lashing a whip about.

"I didn't tell him anything! He was trying to kill me!" Hermione sobbed. Draco observed that her body was already covered with fresh wounds from the whip.

"Liar!" Tom screamed, and swung the whip at Hermione. Draco jumped in front but the whip went right through him and hit Hermione's right arm. A new wound opened and blood trickled down her arm.

"I ran back! I ran back!" Hermione cried, wrapping her left hand over her wound. "I outrun him, hadn't I? He had to follow me! I was faster! Much faster!"

None of this conversation was registering in Draco's head. He was too preoccupied with the idea of Snape being a traitor. He had to tell his father. He made ready to exit the pensieve, no longer wishing to see Tom's sadistic actions against Hermione and to alert his father, when Hermione's scream pierced his ears like an arrow. Draco whipped around, and suddenly everything before his eyes started to happen in intervals of fast-paced events. Hermione was on the floor, sobbing. Tom was beating her. Blood splattered on the walls. The scene blacked out then came back. Draco saw Tom violently feeding off Hermione. The scene blacked out again. Then Hermione was clawing at Tom. "Blood!" she screamed. The scene blacked out again. Tom was feeding off her again, then beating her violently. Throwing her against the wall. Then biting her mercilessly again.

"Stop!" Draco yelled, grabbing his head. "Stop it! Make it stop!"

But it didn't stop. Every time a scene blacked out and came back, Hermione looked paler and paler. Tom was beating her, feeding off her, biting her, throwing her, whipping her. Hermione screamed for blood. Tom grinned insanely and refused her pleas. She was getting thinner, paler. Her eyes started losing life. She didn't make an effort to cover her naked body anymore. The scene blacked out. Tom came back with a short knife. He grabbed Hermione by her hair and heartlessly slashed her hair short. She didn't even fight back. He grinned. "So that I can reach my food easier, Hermione." He bent down and drank her blood again. Draco looked away. He felt his stomach heaving. Make it stop, make it stop!

"Your punishment has ended," said Tom. Draco opened his eyes. It was a different day. Tom threw a set of burgundy robes by Hermione, who slowly grabbed them and put it on. Tom then walked over biting his wrist, and held it before Hermione. She hastily grabbed Tom's arm and buried her face on his wrist, gulping down mouthfuls of his blood. Draco finally raised his wand, and he floated out of the scene, out of the pensieve, and found himself on all fours on the floor on his room. He could see everything happening again before his eyes. His whole body was covered with sweat. He got up and ran to the washroom, and started throwing up violently.

After a couple of minutes, Draco stood up and took his shirt off. He stepped into the bathtub, and turned on the water. The cold water felt soothing against his bare chest, and Snape was long gone from his concerns. His head was filled with what he had just seen in the pensieve. That was inhumane. Hermione's lifeless eyes flashed into his mind. He couldn't ask her to be a spy any longer. She was no use half dead.

"I will get you out of there," Draco whispered. "I'll get you out of there, Hermione."

* * *

(**A/N**: Sorry this chapter took a while to come. New semester has started and now I will have less time to work on this story. I will try my best to upload the future chapters ASAP. :) I hope this wasn't too gruesome or graphic. Constructive criticism is very welcome, and reviews will make my day! :)


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Hermione drew the curtains from her window to let the moonlight in. The silvery light filled her room, and it revealed a mess. The bed sheets were torn and her blankets were overflowing onto the floor. Her closet was half open, and there was a trail of different styled robes leading from the closet to the bed. Her dressing table's mirror was broken, and there were claw marks on the wood. Everything was a product of her mood swings that resulted from three weeks of imprisonment, torture, and the unfulfilled craving for Tom's blood.

It had been a week since she had silently slipped out of the manor to hand her memories to Draco Malfoy. What would he do? She didn't know whether there was anything useful in that vial. Would he come again, she wondered. She took out a vial she had taken from the kitchens, and placed her wand to her temple. During her mood swings, she approached the doors to insanity. However, seeing Draco Malfoy the previous week sparked something inside her. She hung onto her consciousness by thinking of Draco Malfoy. The man that gave her a reason to live: to be human again, to walk in the sun, and to finally stop drinking _blood_.

Hermione removed her wand from the side of her head, and a silver trail was slowly withdrawn. She lightly placed the substance into the vial, and pocketed it. She looked at her reflection in the mirror before exiting the room. She sadly ran her hand through her short hair, then lightly touched the teeth marks on her neck. They never had a chance to heal properly, as Tom would now come every night to feed on her. She smiled bitterly. She was food. And a slave.

She silently crept down to the kitchens, where there was a backdoor. The hour was still early, and most vampires would be sleeping, including Tom. She entered the kitchen cautiously, and when she saw that no one was there, she swiftly moved through the kitchen and out the back door.

The sun was completely gone now, and the moon was shining feebly onto the grounds. Hermione made sure to lightly tip toe on the stepping stones, as walking in the grass or soil would leave footprints. When she approached the edge of the manor, she took a deep breath and slid through the protective charms.

"Come with me now," whispered a voice. Alarmed, Hermione turned abruptly. Draco was standing there, and he grabbed her hand. Hermione instinctively withdrew her hand from Draco's and backed herself towards the protective charms. Draco sighed exasperatedly.

"Come now. You can't stay here. _I_ can't let you stay here." He grabbed her hand again, and Hermione saw urgency in his eyes. What was happening? Did something go wrong?

"I saw… the contents, your memory." Draco looked around nervously. "I can't let you stay with that sadistic bastard. It's… not human."

Finally understanding, Hermione withdrew her hand from Draco's again. "I can't leave," she whispered. "I can't live without Tom… I can't… I need his protection… I need his blood."

Draco ran his trembling fingers through his silvery-gold hair. He looked around again making sure nobody was hiding in the wood where it was rapidly becoming darker. "It's not human," he muttered again.

"Draco…" This time, Hermione took Draco's hand in hers, and looked him in his eyes. "Draco, _I'm_ not human."

Draco looked at her as if she had slapped him in the face. Hermione sighed, and pulled out the vial form her pocket. Draco's vision oscillated from the vial to her face. "Take it," Hermione whispered. "I have to go now. I cannot be seen roaming the grounds… especially outside the protective charms."

Hermione stretched out her hand to hand the vial to Draco. Draco stared at the vial. Hermione looked around, anxious that someone may have noticed her absence. When she was making up her mind to just place the vial in front of the motionless Draco and leave, Draco suddenly grabbed her hand and started running madly. Startled, Hermione felt her legs follow him in order not to fall and be dragged by Draco.

"Stop! What the hell are you doing!" Hermione yelled, trying to pry Draco's fingers off her hand while running to keep up with his immense speed.

"I promised you!" Draco yelled. "You can be human again, I promised you!"

Human. The word ran over and over in Hermione's head as her body was independently moving to keep up with Draco's pace. She felt leaves, twigs and branches scratching her skin as they ran, but she did not care. She could not see where they were going, but she did not care. She did not care about anything except for the one word that kept playing over and over in her head like a broken record. Human. She could be human again. Draco was going to turn her back. With this realization, she dropped her attempt to free herself and let Draco drag her through the woods, pass lakes, and over hills.

After what felt like a million years, Draco stopped abruptly. Hermione stood behind him, and although she was standing still, the ground felt like it was still moving beneath her feet. They had been running for a long time. She looked up at the moon and guessed that about seven hours has passed. Seven hours of nonstop running. Hermione dropped to the ground, finally realizing that she was exhausted beyond what her body could take. Draco looked back, saw Hermione on the ground and he lowered himself in order to grab hold of her arms.

"Get up," he said. "We're here."

Hermione looked up, but saw nothing. "But there isn't anything here," she muttered. Draco looked blank for a minute, and then he pulled out a thin necklace with a silver cross for a pendant. Hermione backed away a bit, but Draco grabbed her shoulders and placed the necklace on the neck.

"You need this to get in," he whispered. "You'll get used to it soon. Crosses are just religious superstition anyway. They can't hurt you."

Hermione looked up again, and this time, she saw a huge manor in front of her, equal to if not bigger in size than Tom's manor. The moon was high up in the sky now, and there were no clouds to shield its light. The whole manor was cast in an eerie silver light, and Hermione ran her eyes over the cross motifs that decorated and supported the manor. She pulled herself up, and with Draco's help she slowly walked towards the manor. She felt small disturbances in the air as she walked and she knew that she was walking through the protective charms of the Vampire Hunters. The charms were most probably designed to repel anything that wasn't human, but its effects were reduced thanks to the pendent on her neck. Nevertheless, she felt small electric shocks on her bare skin, and whimpered in pain against her will. Draco's hold tightened around her shoulders as though reassuring that everything would be okay. Tired, confused, and in pain, Hermione leaned on Draco and she let him lead her through the charms in into the front gardens of the manor.

"What do you think you are doing?" said a cold voice. Hermione looked up, and out of nowhere, five figures were surrounding her and Draco. Two of them had arrows loaded onto their bows and pointed directly at Hermione, and the other three had knives and whips ready in their hands. Behind the figures Hermione saw a tall man with long silver-gold hair gilding gracefully towards them. Her initial perception was that the man was beautiful, but when he got close enough for her to see into his eyes, she shuddered and looked away. His eyes were the same gray eyes that Draco possessed, but there was no warmth; only emotionless void.

"Bind her," the man said. The men holding knives and whips dashed towards Hermione, who no longer had the strength to retaliate. Draco yelled in protest but the man with the cold gray eyes approached Draco, and Draco fell silent. He merely watched as Hermione was bound tightly. She wanted to call out his name. She wanted to yell at him, to demand answers, to ask him if he had betrayed her. Then suddenly, one of the men forced some hot liquid down her throat. Hermione recognized it as a sleeping potion. It spread throughout her body rapidly, and she felt uncontrollable sleep washing over her. She struggled to keep her eyes open, but her vision was already clouded and she could only make out a blurry silhouette that she assumed was the immobile Draco. She heard the man ordering for her to be taken down to the dungeons. Defeated, Hermione finally let her eyes close, and the last thing she felt was her warm tear escaping her eyes and running down her left cheek.

* * *

(**A/N**: Sorry it took sooooooo damn long to update! New semester has started and I barely have time to come on the computer.. :( But I will never abandon this story, promise! This chapter is probably lower in quality than my previous chapters because I didn't have much time to sit on it and proofread everything... but I hope everyone is happy with this. :) Constructive criticism is always welcome, and reviews are my oxygen! :D)


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Hermione jerked awake. Her sight was still blurry, and she blinked a few times to clear her eyes. Slowly her pupils matched the light, and she discovered herself lying on the hard, cold floor of a dungeon cell. She slowly got up and felt every joint in her body stiff like a rusted door hinge. She stretched her arms and legs gently, and heard her bones crack. She must have been out for a very long time.

Hermione looked around the dungeon cell, and found that it was nothing more than a square room with one wall as bars. Beyond the bars was a small hall lit with a few torches on the walls. Below a particularly bright torch sat a red haired man Hermione assumed to be a hunter. He was snoring gently. Eager not to wake this hunter up, Hermione silently crawled around the dungeon cell, looking for any weaknesses in the infrastructure. The walls were made of huge stone bricks, and upon knocking on them gently Hermione discovered that they were extremely thick. She looked up, and saw that the room had no windows. Sighing, she crawled towards the bars.

She observed the bars carefully, and decided that they were nothing more than iron bars stretching from ceiling to floor. They did not look particularly strong, and were quite thin. Making up her mind to slowly pry them to the sides, she gently grabbed the bars.

Almost immediately, Hermione felt her hands clap onto the bars and were unable to take them off. Then, within milliseconds, she felt electric shocks running through the bars and into her body. She shook violently, but was unable to scream out. She tried to take her hands off the bars, but found that they were stuck for good. She felt panic entering her mind as she realized that she had no strength to fight whatever charm it was placed on the bars.

"Hurts dunnit?" said a voice. Hermione felt the shocks stop, and fell to the floor as her hands unglued themselves from the bars. Trembling, she looked up, and saw the red haired man standing in front of the bars. "What… was that?" she asked feebly. The man just smiled bitterly, and backed away from the bars. There were footsteps approaching, and soon Hermione saw Draco Malfoy hurrying towards her cell, accompanied by the tall man with the silver-gold hair.

"Open the cell, Weasley," Draco demanded. The red haired man stepped forward and flicked his wand. Hermione watched as the cell doors slowly open. Draco stepped in, and pulled Hermione up by her robes. He silently pulled out a long, silky rope and tied it to his wrist. Hermione's eyes followed Draco's movements, confused. Draco kneeled, and tied the other end of the rope to Hermione's ankle. Then he pulled Hermione out of the cell.

"She seems harmless to me, Lucius," said Weasley, poking his head from behind trying to watch what was going on. The tall man, Lucius, turned to Weasley. "Vampires are not to be judged by their looks Weasley," he said softly. "That is why you, a pureblood wizard, will simply be down here manning dungeon cells. You are ignorant, and disrespectful. Need I tell you once again, not to call me by my name?" Lucius looked down at Weasley for a split second, and his eyes flashed with distaste. Weasley shrugged, and slid back into the background.

"Now, we shall proceed. Bring her to me Draco."

Not knowing what was going to happen, Hermione resisted Draco's lead. "Stop." Draco said simply and pushed her aggressively to Lucius, where she fell to the floor. She looked up fearfully.

"Now, this will hurt," Lucius said, with a hint of glee in his voice. He pointed his wand at the silky rope, and muttered a long incantation. As he did so, Hermione suddenly felt the rope burn against her skin. She whimpered in pain, as she had no strength in her body to scream. She looked over at Draco, and found that he too was frowning in pain. He did not meet her longing gaze. She dropped her head to the floor, hope lost, and with nothing to cling onto. And after what felt like a century, she felt the burning sensation fade from her ankle.

"You are in charge now Draco," Lucius said, pocketing his wand. "I sincerely hope that you do not fail so dreadfully, and I expect you to keep this… _pet_ of yours under control."

Draco nodded, as Lucius turned and swiftly exited the dungeon. Weasley tipped his head as Lucius passed, but Lucius took no notice. Scowling, he turned to Draco and Hermione.

"So you gunna take this girl out with you, eh?" said Weasley, eyeing the silky rope that bound them together. Draco pulled Hermione up by the robes again. "Walk," he commanded. Hermione obeyed silently, like a child who was just disciplined. Weasley stepped aside for them to pass, and lightly tapped Draco on the shoulder. Draco looked back, and pushed Weasley's hand off his shoulder. Then without a word, he half dragged Hermione out of the dungeon, leaving a scowling Weasley behind.

Hermione tried to remember all the corridors and stairs she and Draco passed, but it was impossible with her dazed mind. She felt so weak, so confused, and most of all, so thirsty. Thirsty for blood. Her subconscious mind fluttered back to Riddle Manor, where she could picture Tom sitting in his room elegantly, his neck exposed just enough to drive Hermione insane. She could almost feel her teeth sinking into Tom's wrist. She could almost feel Tom's blood gushing down her throat. She could almost feel Tom's fangs penetrating her skin, and she shuddered as she could almost feel the pleasure and bliss coming from the act of bloodsucking.

"Get in," Draco said, snapping Hermione out from her imagination. Hermione found herself in a handsome room, with a four poster bed and hanging wine colored drapes. She looked around and saw a small window with the heavy curtains drawn to let in the moonlight. The room was bathed in the silvery light, and Hermione spotted a bedside table sporting a tall bottle and an empty glass. She instinctively walked towards the table, but stumbled as the rope that bound her to Draco pulled her back, as Draco did not move from the door. She stopped, and Draco shut the door behind them.

"I'm thirsty," she muttered. Draco silently walked across the room, and Hermione followed him as the rope was only about five feet long. He went over to the bedside table, and poured the content of the tall bottle into the glass. It was blood. Hermione hungrily lunged towards it as Draco held it out to her. She hastily gulped it down, then stretched out her arm for more. Without saying anything, Draco poured more blood into the glass. Hermione emptied it swiftly.

"What now?" Hermione asked, feeling some strength reentering her body. Draco took the glass from her, and set it on the table. He then walked towards what seemed to be the washroom, and Hermione had no choice but to follow him. He turned the water on in the tub, and turned away from Hermione.

"Bathe. You have been out for four days," he said. Hermione blushed. "With you in the room?" she asked faintly. Draco nodded, still looking away. "Can't we take the rope off just for when I shower?" Hermione asked, feeling every corner of her face go red. "I think it's already proven that you are faster and stronger than me."

"The rope cannot be removed by anyone except my father, Lucius." Draco said softly. "Now bathe. I don't want a filthy vampire next to me."

Perplexed and somewhat embarrassed by Draco's change of attitude towards her, Hermione slowly removed her clothing. As she removed her robe, she felt her face grow hot, and by the time she removed her undergarments she felt as if her whole body was blushing. She got into the tub, and started to scrub the filth off her skin. Draco slid to the floor and sat down with his back leaning on the tub. Although Hermione could only see the back of his head, she still felt extremely embarrassed and uncomfortable at the proximity of Draco to her.

Hermione bathed in silence, wishing dearly that this wasn't happening. Being naked in front of a hundred vampires was bad. But oddly, it was more embarrassing being naked in front of one man, who wasn't even looking at her. She quickly washed herself and whispered that she was done. Draco stood up, grabbed a dry towel and handed it to her, and she dried herself hastily and wrapped it around her body. Then Draco walked back into the room, making Hermione follow. As she was walking, she spotted herself in the washroom mirror, and saw that she was pale, thin, and covered in small scars. She dropped her head not wanting to see the scars that reminded her of Tom Riddle.

Sensing that Draco stopped, she looked up, and discovered Draco in only his trousers. Blushing, Hermione quickly looked away. She heard the rustle of clothes and guessed that Draco had stripped off his clothing. Then she felt something soft hit her head, and discovered a set of black robes resting on her head. She held them, and followed instinctively as the rope was pulled again towards the washroom. She had her head turned away and dressed rapidly, and she heard the shower turn on. After a few silent, embarrassing minutes, Draco stepped out of the shower.

"Sleep," Draco said, as he pulled on thin, comfortable looking trousers and walked towards the bed. He lied on it, and pointed on the ground. Getting this nonverbal language, Hermione laid on the floor, which was surprisingly hard even though it was covered in carpet. She tossed and turned trying to get comfortable, and finally curled up like a puppy. Now that she was slightly comfortable, and the embarrassing moments over, her mind was bursting with questions. Did Tom follow her? Was she safe here? When was she going to be able to turn back into a human?

"You are safe here," Draco said, as though reading her mind. "Now sleep. I am tired. Don't think of doing anything. The rope senses hostility towards me and will alert the guards immediately."

"Okay." Hermione replied. She closed her eyes, and although a million questions and worries were racing through her mind, she quickly fell asleep. She fell into a world of the past, dreaming of the Riddle Manor, its corridors, the Gatherings, and Tom. Tom, who was so beautiful yet so cruel. She dreamed of Tom's bare neck, the neck she had never bitten but imagined sinking her fangs into countless times. She tried to remember what his blood taste like. She wanted him. His blood. Tom Riddle's blood. She needed Tom's blood.

"Stop it!" yelled a voice. Hermione snapped her eyes open, and saw Draco wrestling a squirming Hermione. She realized she was screaming. "Be quiet, stop!" Draco yelled. Hermione clawed at Draco, her body no longer in control of her conscious mind. All she needed was Tom's blood.

"I need Tom," Hermione gasped. "Please, his blood. Please."

"Drink this," Draco said, handing her the glass of blood from his bottle. She knocked the glass out of his hand. Draco sighed, and grabbed her wrists, trying to stop her from clawing his face. Hermione struggled trying to free her hands. "No!" she screamed. "Not this. I need Tom's blood. I want to go back. Why did you bring me here! I need… I want…"

Then quite suddenly, Draco smashed his lips onto hers. Hermione's eyes widened from surprise. She tried to free her hands, but he aggressively pulled her arms over her head, and pushed her down to the floor. She felt blood seeping into her mouth, and guessed that Draco bit his lip… or maybe she bit his. Whatever it was, she felt soothed, and soon found herself savoring even corner of Draco's mouth. Draco grabbed her hair violently and returned the motion, but Hermione did not mind. She merely submitted to his dominance, and fell into the blissful feeling of drinking his blood.

"No…" Draco breathed, finally pulling away. She laid their motionless, somewhat tired, and mildly confused.

"That should not have happened. I… I don't know…" Hermione saw that Draco's face had a confused expression. "Forget that it happened." Draco said finally, and went back up to the bed. Hermione stared after him, blissful, but confused, and most of all, tired. She felt her eyes drop and she did not fight the sleep that was over coming her. She was content, and her craving for Tom's blood had lessened. Curling up into a ball again, she succumbed to what she knew was going to be a deep, dreamless sleep.

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(**A/N**: Sorry it took so long! Job hunting and senior yr in college is not a good mix :( I will try to get back on track! Constructive criticism is always welcome, and I live on reviews! :D)


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Upon opening her eyes slowly, Hermione saw that the moonlight was shining feebly into the room and onto the floor where she was sleeping. She lay there motionless, wanting to go back to sleep, but a stir in the air next to her prompted her to turn her head by a fraction. Draco was standing there, next to the bedside table, his white gold hair illuminated eerily by the moonlight. Hermione eyed his bare torso, and found many scars, similar to her own body. Then she saw that Draco was pouring blood from the bottle into the glass on the bedside table. Assuming it was for her, she made to get up, but stopped abruptly when she saw Draco take the glass to his lips and drain the blood.

She lied there shocked, confused, and wondering if she was still dreaming. She shut her eyes as she saw Draco licking his lips and putting the glass down. She felt him kneel on the floor next to her and felt him tap her on the shoulder.

"Get up. I have work to do," he said. Hermione slowly opened her eyes, not sure if she was supposed to have seen what just happened. Draco simply stood up, and walked towards the closet disregarding whether Hermione was following or not. Not wanting to be dragged across the floor, Hermione quickly crawled after him. She brushed down her own robes as Draco put on a set of black ones. Then after an awkward session of washing up, they left the room.

This mansion was very different from what Hermione was used to. There were torches lining the walls and the overall mood of the mansion was bright. She stared at her own clear shadow traveling across the wall. Draco picked up his pace, and Hermione was forced to follow. She eyed the torches nervously. Fire was a vampire's death sentence.

"Don't worry about the torches," said Draco, feeling Hermione's pace become irregular. "There is no reason to set you on fire yet."

Hermione frowned at Draco's back, and stayed as far away from the torches as she could anyway. She followed Draco through halls and corridors, and soon felt like she was in a small castle designed like a maze. She wondered if Draco was taking the long way to wherever they were going in order to confuse her.

Soon, they started descending into the dark. As they went down what felt like a million staircases, Hermione felt the air around her become humid and stuffy. She inhaled deeply trying to make use of the little oxygen in the air. She squinted ahead, as the torches were decreasing in number as they continued onward. When her eyes finally adjusted to the new darkness, she saw that they were approaching a old, battered door.

Draco simply pulled the door open, and it creaked with age. The room was dimly lit with a few torches, and Hermione observed that the place was a cross between a laboratory and a prison. Prison cells lined the walls in the far corner of the room, and tables were lined with beakers and vials holding different colored liquids and what Hermione assumed to be gases. There were cabinets stretching from the floor to the ceiling filled with different potion ingredients, and the high ceiling gave the illusion that they were above ground level, even though they were miles underground.

"Ah, you're here," said a voice. Hermione turned, and observed the back of a man with thick, oily black hair. He was hunched over what seemed to be a small cauldron that was puffing out small amounts of yellow smoke. A pungent smell filled the room and Hermione twitched her nose as the odor violently attacked her heightened sense of smell. She eyed the cauldron distastefully, but as soon as the man turned towards them the pungent odor was no longer the issue at hand.

"Severus Snape," Hermione said automatically. Snape glanced at her for a fraction of a second, then strolled over to a tall cabinet and pondered over the ingredients.

"How did the new confounding powder work, Draco?" Snape asked, picking up a jar of what seemed to be bat wings. Draco's eyebrows twitched for half a second. "I'm still alive," he muttered.

"Good, good," Snape said dismissively, setting the jar down and picking up some dried frog legs instead. Draco stared after him, and Hermione glanced from one man to the other.

"It's a bit late for you to ask," said Draco, breaking the awkward silence. Snape simply walked over to the table and started chopping up the frog legs. Draco took a step towards Snape, but before he could say anything Hermione cut in front of him.

"You're Severus Snape," she whispered. "You are in Tom's inner circle." The rhythmic chopping of the frog legs stopped. Snape looked up. Draco pulled Hermione back.

"Precisely," said Draco. "You should know very well whether the confounding powder worked or not. You were right there when Riddle asked you to develop something to counter it."

Snape smirked, and resumed cutting the frog legs. "Lucius obviously hasn't told you anything," he said. He scooped up the finely chopped legs and added it to a vial of green liquid. "If he did not trust you enough to confide in you, I have no duty to reveal my purposes. Now, like you said I must develop something to counter my own invention. Leave me be." He then waved his free hand towards the pair, and turned his back on them. For a split second Hermione thought Draco was going to attack Snape. However, all Draco did was turn and made to exit. Then suddenly Hermione felt a stabbing pain in her right arm. She made a small yelp, and turned to see Snape walking away with what seemed to be her blood in a vial.

"What? Why?" she exclaimed. Snape held the vial up level to his eyes. "Interesting… A mudblood who drinks the blood of a Pure," muttered Snape. "A rather disgusting mixture of bloods, don't you think?"

Waving the pungent smell away, Hermione advanced towards Snape to snatch her blood away. But before she could do anything, a familiar voice filled her ears.

"Hermione?"

Hermione turned, and eyed the dark corner of the prison cell. She made out a pair of gleaming green eyes. She gasped.

"Harry?"

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(A/N: So very short. And so very late. What with the thesis writing, graduating, job hunting and general life stuff I had to unfortunately put this story on hold. Now that I got all those aspects sorted out, hopefully I will get back in the hang of things and update more often. :) Sorry again for the lateness and shortness D:!)


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